hands on a towel near his first aid station as the Admiral came through the door. “Don't worry about the crew,” he said. “Just a few bumps and bruises here and there; nothing to be concerned about. But what is going on up topside, Admiral? The ship took quite a jolt there. Did we hit a mine?”
“I wish it was something that simple, Dmitri.” It was plain the Admiral was quite distressed. He quickly shared details of the situation with his physician, tipping his head to one side when he had finished, and feeling better already just to have unburdened himself. “It is the strangest situation I have ever encountered. What do you make of it, Dmitri?”
“What you suggest about Orel suffering the same fate as Kursk makes a lot of sense to me, assuming we go by the official story. But this business about Slava is somewhat puzzling, is it not? Neither ship responds to communications hails? Then you will have to conduct a thorough search. Better Slava than Orel. Easier to find a surface ship than a submarine, and also easier to spot any sign of flotsam.”
“We’ve sent the KA-226 out, but they have seen nothing conclusive yet.”
“I see,” said Zolkin. “And the explosion?”
“I am thinking we have lost Orel,” Volsky said heavily.
“An attack?”
“Karpov believed this. I am not so sure.”
“Any deliberate attack would not happen in isolation, Leonid. A surprise attack upon a Russian naval task force would be a major international incident, yes? It would have to have some context to make any sense.”
“Things were getting very difficult in recent weeks, my friend,” the Admiral explained. “Why do you think we are out here for live fire exercises? This business in Georgia has the Americans all up in arms again. They want the place to keep the back door firmly closed on Iran, yet the presence of three of our motor rifle divisions just over the border is most unsettling for them. They rattle their sword, so we rattle ours.”
“A little more talking and a little less rattling would be so much better,” said the Doctor. “Have you tried listening on shortwave to see if the world has gone crazy again?”
That very simple idea had never occurred to Volsky. If there had indeed been a surprise nuclear strike upon his homeland then something as simple as a short wave radio might provide information he needed. Why not simply tune in civilian radio stations and monitor that traffic for a while? Nikolin had been on secured military channels all this time.
“Good idea, Dmitri. Now…can you give me something for this headache?”
“Certainly, but I don't think it's the headache that's really bothering you.” The doctor gave him a cursory examination to assure himself that the Admiral had not banged his head on the bulkhead. Then he looked at him with a warm expression on his face, puttering amongst his medication trays to fetch a couple of aspirin. “That's a lot of crew to be worried about now out there on Slava and Orel. It's a heavy burden to carry them on your back, but if this was an accident, Leonid, you can do little more than what you have suggested. Investigate the matter thoroughly, satisfy yourself as to the whereabouts of these two ships, and then report home to Severomorsk.”
“Karpov is edgy again,” said the Admiral. “He is convinced this was a deliberate attack.”
“Perhaps so, but why? The political situation was deteriorating, why else would we be here shooting missiles in the middle of nowhere like this, just as you say. But it was not all that bad. I do not think the world is crazy enough to start World War III. We are still really not over the scars left by the first two.”
The Admiral nodded, forcing a smile.
“Don't let Karpov get under your skin,” said the doctor. “He's your canary in the mineshaft. Listen to him, but use your best judgment. He'll fret and fume for a while, but things will settle down soon enough, you'll see.”
“I had best get back to the bridge,” said Volsky. “This idea about the shortwave might allow us to get our bearings again. Have you looked outside? Did you see the ocean?”
“Every crewman who has come in here in the last half hour was talking about the sea conditions. We should feel fortunate that Rodenko’s weather report was wrong today, that’s all. And perhaps it is merely an algae bloom. Such things are not that uncommon. The ocean is as temperamental as Karpov,” said the doctor. “It’s just a mood. It will pass.”
Volsky nodded, heading for the bridge, but the doctor’s suggestion would soon raise many more questions than it answered.
Chapter 5
Back on the bridge ten minutes later, the Admiral asked his radioman Nikolin to tune in anything he could find on the short wave that might shed light on the situation, but the result confused them even more. There was nothing on the radio bands at all. Every wavelength was awash with the soft hiss of background static. This went on for another half hour until the stubby first Lieutenant sat up suddenly, his hand at an earpiece as he reported with a smile.
“Signal! I have Moscow on long wave. Just heard the call sign ID. Very strange, Admiral. They signed off as Radio Moscow.” That station had been renamed ‘Voice of Russia,’ years ago.
“Well, at least Moscow is still there,” said the Admiral.
“But they are playing oldies but goodies! It reminds me of the old military music they would broadcast whenever there was a crisis. Here, have a listen…” He toggled a switch and the sonorous swells of Tchaikovsky’s violins played over his speakers. The sound touched a deep nerve in Volsky, triggering an old childhood memory. He was just a young boy at the time of the Cuban Missile crisis in 1962, but the radio had droned on and on with similar music for hours, and the deep memory carried a vaguely ominous undertone.
“Surely there must be some news being reported,” he said. “Dial in a few more regional stations. Try Oslo or Reykjavik, or perhaps even the BBC in London.”
Nikolin seemed more and more perplexed the longer he searched however. “It's very strange, sir,” he reported. “No commercials! Just music from Oslo, Beethoven this time…Nothing much of anything from Reykjavik, and the BBC is droning on with some old World War II documentary. They're playing speeches by Churchill and congratulating themselves over the sinking of the German battleship Bismarck.” Nikolin was skilled in three languages and could easily interpret the English. “It’s the same all across the band. Lots of commemorative radio traffic about the war. Is this an anniversary of some important event?”
Volsky smiled. “Ask Fedorov. He’s the historian aboard ship.” His young navigator was a book worm of sorts, and a bit of an Anglophile in spite of the fact that Britain was a clear enemy of Russia in the year 2021.
“Fedorov will tell you how much the British love their history,” said Volsky. “Well, keep listening to the BBC. When the documentary concludes perhaps we will get further news. But from what you have told me it does not sound like there's any major crisis underway, much less a nuclear war. That news would be on every channel if it were so. The North Atlantic appears to be quietly sleeping under this damnable ice fog, or perhaps they are all at dinner, as we should be.”
He started away, then remembered something, reaching into his coat pocket. “Good job, Mister Nikolin,” he said with a wink. Then he lowered his voice. “Put that in your pocket.” He handed him back his iPod.
“The fog is breaking up ahead, sir,” said Karpov. “Seas appear to be rising again as well. Barometer is down twenty points from last reading, and falling.”
“Confirmed,” said Rodenko. “I have clear readings on my weather Doppler returns now. The front I was tracking is there again… but it has moved, sir.”
“Don’t surprise yourself to find the wind moves, Mister Rodenko,” said Volsky.
“Yes sir. But the winds are out of the northeast now. It was tracking from the northwest before.”
The Admiral waved at Karpov and Orlov, prompting the two men to approach. He settled back into the command chair and folded his arms thinking out loud. “We have found no evidence of Slava, nor the slightest whisper or sign of Orel. Severomorsk has not returned our signals, and we can tune in nothing but nonsense on the radio.” He shared Nikolin’s report with them and the three men huddled together speaking quietly with one another.
“This explosion we experienced may have had something to do with Orel’s demise,” said the Admiral. “That at least makes some sense to me. But the disappearance of Slava is very troubling. I'm inclined to agree with you Karpov, she may have been attacked. But if that is so, then why can't we find the slightest trace of her, and why
